


Of Beanbags and Abdominal Muscles

by alanna_the_lionheart



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Beanbags, Coda, Episode Tag, Episode: s06e03 Next of Kin, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description, Gratuitous Smut, Grinding, Humor, Muscles, One Shot, Ridiculous, Sexual Content, Short One Shot, Smut, a bit of crack, abs, beanbag sex, smutty but fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 22:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alanna_the_lionheart/pseuds/alanna_the_lionheart
Summary: Sex. Abs. Exploding beanbag chairs. A coda to 6x03.





	Of Beanbags and Abdominal Muscles

**Author's Note:**

> For the purposes of this story, assume that this isn’t the first time Oliver and Felicity have had sex since coming back from Lian Yu (only because I can’t picture their first time back together being anything like this, lol).
> 
> I blame/thank @muslimsmoak for the poll that first put the idea of beanbag chair sex into my head, and credit goes to @callistawolf and @dust2dust34 for the idea of an EXPLODING beanbag chair.
> 
> The abdominal muscles were something I've wanted to write about for a long time.
> 
> This story is 75% explicit smut, 25% sweet fluff, and 100% ridiculous.
> 
> I regret nothing.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Of Beanbags and Abdominal Muscles**

 

Felicity manages to get Oliver’s jacket halfway down his arms before he crashes into the computer table. He grunts, accidentally biting her lip in the process, and Felicity moans softly. She pulls away from him, taking her lower lip into her mouth and sucking on it. Her eyes are dark with desire, cheeks flushed a brilliant pink, and Oliver groans as he shrugs out of his jacket.

 

“Oliver-”

 

He doesn’t let her finish. Instead he grabs her face between his hands and crashes his lips against hers with the same fervor she just used to push him across the room. He sucks her lower lip into his mouth, laving it with his tongue before biting it gently, and Felicity gasps against him. The sound of her breathy moans is driving Oliver insane, and he lets go of her face and wraps his arms around her lower back, pulling her in closer. He’s just about to grab her ass when he feels her hands tugging on the hem of his t-shirt.

 

Oliver lets go of her reluctantly, and he puts his arms up over his head so she can yank the offending fabric off of him. Before he even knows what’s happening, she bends down and sucks hard on his left nipple.

 

“Fuck,” Oliver curses, throwing his head back, and he can feel the computers on the desk behind him wobbling precariously. “Felicity, we need to-”

 

But she already knows what they need, and she pulls away with a wet pop before gripping his hips and dragging him away from the table. She moves backwards, cursing softly when her knees ram into the coffee table. Oliver grabs her hips to keep her from falling, running his fingers along the exposed skin of her stomach, and he’s about to suggest they take this upstairs when she kisses him again.

 

Oliver loses himself in the feel of her lips against his: the quick, sensual dance that never ceases to drive him absolutely crazy. He’s so distracted that he doesn’t realize where she’s leading him until she puts her hands on his shoulders and pushes him backward.

 

Oliver crashes down onto the blue beanbag chair, and he can feel the fabric strain under the force of his impact...but he doesn’t have long to dwell on it, because suddenly Felicity is on her knees in front of him and she’s licking her way down his chest.

 

His back arches against the soft fabric of the chair, and the beanbag stuffing feels strange against his bare skin, but it’s hardly important at the moment because now Felicity’s fingers are teasing the side of his ribs while her tongue licks between the ridges of his abs. He groans, reaching down and running a hand gently through her hair as his muscles twitch under touch. She moans against him, but she doesn’t stop, and Oliver’s cock twitches as she licks her way down his abdomen. She stops when she reaches the top of his pelvis, and her breasts rub against his growing erection. He groans as his cock swells in his pants, and he knows she can feel him because she huffs against his skin and presses her breasts down harder, rubbing them along his dick. Then she continues to lick her way down his body, swirling her tongue along the patch of hair near the base of his pelvis, before slipping it under the waistband of his pants.

 

“Oh, god,” Oliver groans, and he thrusts his hips up reflexively, his cloth clad erection brushing against her chin. Felicity gasps, and she runs her hands down his sides to grab his hips, squeezing them hard as she pulls away from him.

 

She stares down at him, breathing heavily. Her camisole has slipped down on one side, and Oliver’s cock twitches at the sight of her heaving breasts: just barely covered by the blue bra she’s wearing. Oliver licks his lips - wondering just how quickly he can get it off of her - when suddenly she’s sitting in his lap.

 

And Oliver smiles as he surrenders himself to her.

 

It’s nearly impossible for him to gain any kind of an upper hand when she gets like this, and to be honest he wouldn’t want to even if he could. Letting her take control makes his blood run hot with desire, makes his body quake with need, and creates an erotic high he never wants to come down from.

 

He lets her undress herself for him, starting with the camisole. When the bra comes off, Oliver thrusts up against her, rubbing his hard cock along her center, and he can feel her heat even through all the layers of clothing still separating them. Felicity grunts, and her fingers grip his sides as she leans over to grind down on him. Oliver takes the opportunity to grabs her breasts, palming them gently, and when she crawls up his body in order to shove them harder against his hands, her soft cotton sleep pants rub along his abdominal muscles.

 

Oliver gasps at the sensation, squeezing her breasts tightly, and Felicity stops moving.

 

She stares down at him in wonder, and he can practically hear the gears turning in her gorgeous brain. He thinks he knows where her thoughts are at...and when she grinds her core against his stomach, Oliver smirks, his suspicions confirmed.

 

It takes what feels like forever for her to finish undressing them. When they’re both finally naked, Felicity climbs back on top of him, but she doesn’t take his cock inside her. Instead she spreads her legs, wraps them around his sides, and grinds her pussy down against his abs. Oliver grunts loudly, and he grips her hips, desperate to hold onto her as she starts to ride his stomach. She’s already wet, and he can feel her arousal smearing against his skin.

 

Suddenly, she leans forward. She lies her body down along his - changing the angle in order to better rub her clit against his firm muscles - and Oliver groans at the feel of her soft, hot body pressed up against him.

 

The new angle also pushes her breasts up against the underside of his chin, and Oliver will be damned if he lets her have all the fun. So he moves his hands up along her sides and grips her shoulders, pushing her just far enough away that he can pull her left nipple into his mouth.

 

Felicity whines, shoving her breast against his face, and as Oliver laves her nipple with his tongue she writhes harder against him. She spreads her legs wider in an attempt to further expose her engorged clit, and it must work, because she mewls softly as she grinds her core against his abs in small, quick bursts. Her leg muscles clench hard around him as she continues to rub herself against his muscles, and Oliver groans around her breast as he feels a fresh flow of her arousal wet his stomach.

 

As she grinds herself against him hard and fast, Oliver’s lower body shifts farther and farther down the beanbag, and he can feel the fabric straining underneath him...but he can’t find it in himself to care, because Felicity is actually fucking herself on his abs, and it’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

 

As she begins to move faster on top of him, the underside of her ass shifts against his erection, and Oliver moans around her breast as he rubs his hard cock against her soft cheeks. The sensation makes her grind down against him even faster, and Oliver grins as he pulls away from her nipple with an obscenely wet pop. Without warning, he bites down gently on the side of her breast, and she curses loudly. She arches her back as she continues to ride his abs, and Oliver’s cock twitches against her ass.

 

“Oh, god,” Felicity mewls, and Oliver would swear he can the muscles of her pussy pulsing against his stomach. She’s close, he can feel it, and while he wants to be inside her when she comes there’s also something incredibly erotic about the idea of making her come just like this.

 

And so Oliver moves his hands down her back and grabs her ass, massaging her full cheeks in his hands as he sits up just the slightest and tightens his core. The movement flexes his abdominals, and he uses his grip on her ass to push her down against his hard muscles. Then he takes her nipple into his mouth once more and sucks on it - hard.

 

Felicity comes with a scream, grinding herself down on his stomach and shoving her breast against his face at the same time. _“Oliver,”_ she whines, her whole body trembling against his as her thighs squeeze tightly around his body. Oliver palms her ass harder, and he can feel her vaginal muscles contracting against his stomach as a rush of her warm, wet arousal soaks his abs.

 

Oliver licks her nipple one more time before pulling away.

 

 _“Felicity,”_ he groans, and he holds on to her tightly, reveling in the feel of her coming undone against him.

 

She’s still coming on top of him when Oliver decides he can’t wait anymore.

 

He needs to be inside her.

 

He smacks her thighs gently - alerting her that he’s about to stand - and he tries to sit up, moving awkwardly on the unyielding beanbag. The stuffing in the bag makes for a soft, continuously shifting surface, and Oliver wraps his arms around Felicity’s lower back as he struggles underneath her. The fabric pulls tight, and Oliver would swear he hears a quiet rip, but he ignores it, because he wants to be inside her _now_ and the damn beanbag won’t cooperate.

 

Finally, Felicity shifts on top of him. She mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “amazing abs” before raising her head from his shoulder. Her gaze meets his, and she knows what he wants without him having to say anything. She pushes off of him slowly - her legs trembling underneath her in her post-orgasmic haze - and once she’s standing she holds out a hand and helps pull him out of the unruly confines of the giant blue blob she so desperately wanted to have sex on.

 

Once he’s on his feet, Oliver crashes his lips against hers. He kisses her hard, and she moans against his mouth as he grabs her ass in his hands and lifts her off the floor. She wraps her legs around him, holding on tight as he spins them around and falls to his knees on top of the beanbag. He _definitely_ hears a rip this time, but fuck it, he needs to fuck _her_ , and as he presses her down into the beanbag he enters her in one smooth motion.

 

Felicity groans, arching her back as she grips his hips tightly between her thighs. Oliver gives her a few seconds to adjust to him, and when she nods that she’s ready Oliver pulls out of her and thrusts back in, hard.

 

He hears another rip, louder than the first, but he just can’t _care_ , because he’s buried deep inside her wet warmth and _fuck_ she feels so good writhing underneath him.

 

He thrusts inside her again, and the beads in the bag shift unexpectedly. Oliver curses, shifting on his knees as he tries to find better purchase. After a few seconds of adjusting, he finds a good position, and the new angle allows him to push into her even deeper.

 

It also causes another ripping sound, but he’s finally found a rhythm and he’s not stopping now.

 

Felicity pants and writhes and moans underneath him, and Oliver bends over her, gripping her hips in his hands as he continues to thrust into her. His pelvis brushes against her clit with every downstroke, and as her muscles clench around his cock he knows she’s close to another orgasm.

 

He fucks her as hard and fast as the unforgiving beanbag will let him, and when she comes for a second time, Oliver comes with her.

 

He grunts her name as he shoots inside her, and the feel of her muscles pulling on his cock makes him shudder. He rotates his hips slightly, rubbing his cock along her inner walls, and the force of his movements makes his knees dig hard into the already strained fabric of the beanbag.

 

There’s no ignoring it this time.

 

A loud _RIIIIIIP_ fills the air….

 

...and the seam on top of beanbag bursts open.

 

The beanbag explodes underneath them, and Felicity squeaks at the same time that Oliver shouts her name. Luckily, Oliver has quick reflexes, and he manages to roll them over so he hits the floor instead of her. As she falls on top of him, tiny bits of beanbag filling spray everywhere, and he covers her head with his hands in a useless attempt to protect her from the millions of projectiles that are currently attaching themselves to every inch of their exposed skin.

 

When Oliver finally feels like it’s safe to open his eyes, he almost wishes he hadn’t….

 

...because the beanbag stuffing is _everywhere._

 

Tiny white beads are scattered clear across the room, spreading out from the epicenter of the explosion in every possible direction.

 

They’re on the coffeetable, and the pink chair ten feet away from them, and on Felicity’s computer desk.

 

And they’re not just on the furniture….

 

Static electricity - built up from all the friction of their lovemaking - has turned Oliver and Felicity into veritable magnets for the stuff, and Oliver takes in the sight of the two of the covered in hundreds of little beads. They’re in Felicity’s hair and stuck to his beard and spread over every bare surface of their sweaty skin, which - considering their recent activities - is everywhere.   

 

Felicity lifts her head from his chest, and she blows hard against a fringe of hair that’s fallen in front of her face, scattering beads everywhere….

 

...And that’s when Oliver loses it.

 

Once he starts laughing, he can’t stop, and Felicity looks at him like he’s crazy...but then she starts laughing, too.

 

As she sits up on top of him, a bunch of beads transfer from his skin to hers, and Oliver laughs even harder at the sight of her entire chest covered in beanbag filling. Felicity huffs, and she reaches down and grabs two fistfuls of beads off of the floor. Oliver barely has time to laugh out the word “NO!” before she dumps the load on top of him, rubbing the beads along his skin in an attempt to get them to stick. Unfortunately, she ends up with most of the beads stuck to herself instead, and Oliver’s laughing so hard now that tears are leaking from his eyes.

 

“Oh, you’ll pay for this, mister,” Felicity teases, and she climbs off of him, kneeling next to the remains of her once really nice beanbag chair. Oliver realizes what she’s going to do just a split second too late, and he covers his face as she picks up the pile of blue fabric, turns it sideways, and dumps a mountain of beads on top of him.

 

Oliver exacts his revenge in quick fashion, and Felicity giggles as he wraps his arms around her middle and hugs her tight, wiggling against her and transferring some of the beads onto her.

 

Five minutes later, Oliver and Felicity lie on the floor: gasping for air, tears of laughter dried on their faces...and covered head to toe in beanbag stuffing.

 

It takes them a good ten minutes to divest themselves of all the beads, and another five minutes for both of them to get their clothes back on.

 

After a mere two minutes of attempting to clean up the mess, Felicity throws a handful of beads at the back of Oliver’s head, and they have to start all over.

 

It’s one in the morning before they finally decide to clean up the mess tomorrow night.

 

As Oliver stands in the doorway to her home-turned-office, he smiles down at her.

 

“I guess I owe you a new beanbag chair, huh?” he asks.

 

Felicity smiles back at him, and she reaches up and pulls a few stray beads out of his hair.

 

“Nah. I’m just as much to blame for this mess as you are, don’t you think?”

 

Oliver laughs softly, shaking his head, and then he bends down and kisses her. When he pulls away, she holds up the new key he’s given her.

 

“Are there any exploding beanbag chairs in your apartment?” she jokes.

 

Oliver just smiles and kisses her again, his heart swelling with love.

  
He can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her.

 

Exploding beanbags and all.

 

_...the end…._

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, reviews feed my (occasionally smutty) soul.


End file.
